o:

Just something that I wrote both as a gift to someone and an excuse to explore my canonly incorrect obsession with LXMello.

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Do you even know what happens to me when you look at me that way? I’d like to think that you do, but I’m more than positive that you don’t. Matt says you’re above it and I believe him. The guy can say some pretty profound shit when I least expect it. And he’s usually right.

Not that I’d ever admit that to him. The guy gets a compliment and thinks he’s God’s gift. Better to keep my mouth shut.

The way you sit, with your legs curled up to your chest and just staring, contemplating, taking things apart and putting them back together; it’s all concentration and no emotion. And I wonder whether or not you can even tell that I’m not just staring at you because I’m waiting for you to speak. I’m waiting for you to look up, to lock eyes with me just once, so I can stop being a pathetic asshole and just let everything spill out.

I’d probably sound pretty stupid doing it, though. And that’s one thing I wouldn’t be able to stand: looking stupid in front of you, of all people.

Everything we learn; every lesson, every word that’s pounded into our heads again and again…it’s all to train us so we can take your place if something happens to you. I learn, yeah, because I’d be stupid not to, but then I sit back and think about exactly why they’re teaching us all of this shit and it freaks me out. Bad.

I don’t want to have to use what I’ve learned. I don’t want to even pay attention because I feel like if I do, I’m allowing them to train me, thereby accepting that yes, something will happen where you won’t come back. I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want you to leave and I don’t want you to die.

I’ve loved exactly two people in my entire life. My mother, which goes without saying. And of course, you know how that turned out, because that’s the whole reason I’m here. Kids with parents don’t end up here. The second person, L, is you. And I can’t even compare the two. When I think of you, it’s like this hole rips in my stomach and I have to curl up to stop it from spreading to my chest. It fucking hurts and the only thing I could ever do that would alleviate it would be the one thing that would make it worse.

I’m just a kid. A kid with a stupid crush that I’ve let go on too long and now it’s love. It reminds me of what they taught us about Mono and how sometimes it’s accompanied by something that can lead to an auto-immune disease that just knocks you on your ass. Bad analogy, right? But it’s true. It’s like…I looked at you one day and I knew I liked you. I liked the way your hair fell into your eyes and I liked the way you spoke. Your voice is always so calm and collected and I couldn’t sound like that in a million years, even if I tried.

That’s when it came. I realized that I didn’t want to sound like you at all. I didn’t want to sound like you and I didn’t want to be you. I wanted you. I wanted to have an effect on you and I wanted you to just completely ignore the fact that I’m just a kid and do something, anything that would let me know that somewhere in your heart, I’m above Near.

Stupid, right?

The night after that happened, I went to bed and locked Matt out of the room. It was a shitty thing to do and he ended up sleeping on the floor right outside of the door just to fucking spite me. But I had to. I couldn’t let him know what I was doing and in whose name I was doing it. He’d either call me stupid, which would end up with his face planted into the wall, or he’d say something completely retarded that would end with his face planted into the wall.

Sometimes I think he’s jealous.

But anyway, yeah. I love you, L. I love you and I want you to look at me like that again just so I can pretend that in a matter of seconds, you are going to do more than just look at me. I could tell you. I could, but I’m old enough to know it would be a dumb thing to do.

So I’ll take what I can get. Maybe one day when I’m older, I’ll be able to tell you how I used to have this stupid crush on you when I was fourteen. Maybe you’ll laugh. I don’t know. But for right now, I’ll just pretend that this thing isn’t making me sick and ripping me apart.

I think you’d prefer it that way.